“Tonight I will speak up and interrupt

your letters, warning you that wars are coming,

that the Count will die, that you will accept

your America back to live like a prim thing

on the farm in Maine.
 I tell you, you will come

here, to the suburbs of Boston, to see the blue-nose

world go drunk each night, to see the handsome

children jitterbug, to feel your left ear close

one Friday at Symphony.’’

— From “Some Foreign Letters,’’ by Anne Sexton (1928-1974), Pulitzer Prize-winning Massachusetts poet

The whole poem is here.